


My What?!

by Jojo_In_The_Shadows



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Absurd, F/F, Family Fluff, Fluff and Crack, I Don't Even Know, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-18 02:46:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18240821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jojo_In_The_Shadows/pseuds/Jojo_In_The_Shadows
Summary: Patsy returns home to something totally unexpected.NOT JUST A ONESHOT ANYMORE!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know where this one came from! I think I've lost the plot!

Patsy practically fell through the door of their flat. Hills. There were too many hills here! The Highlands were well named! She should have taken the position at the hospital rather than insisting she continue in a district capacity. All she wanted to do now was sit down, maybe have a hot bath to ease her sore muscles. Delia could more than likely be persuaded to join her. Speaking of...

"Delia? Darling, I'm home."

"In the sitting room sweetheart!"

The voice was like a siren's call, and Patsy's exhausted legs moved automatically towards it.

The sight that greeted her as she stepped through the door however left her truly baffled. Delia was sat on the sofa, shrouded in an over-sized cardigan, absolutely surrounded by piles and piles of baby clothes. Dresses, trousers, matinee jackets, hats, booties, in blue, pink, yellow and green...Delia was contentedly folding a stack of little white vests, a small smile on her face.

"What's all this? Are we collecting for a charity event or something?"

The welshwoman turned to her, the smile turning into a beaming grin. She was practically glowing. "Oh Pats, isn't it wonderful? Everyone has been so generous since they heard our news!"

Well, Patsy's bafflement was growing rather than dissipating. "Our news?"

Delia chuckled as she folded the last vest and placed it delicately on the pile. "Yes silly. Oh!" The brunette's breath hitched and she bent double, hands at her middle. "Oh goodness."

Patsy was at her side in a heartbeat, crouched next to the sofa. "Delia are you all right?"

She watched on bemused as the look of pain on Delia's face morphed into wonder. "Peachy. They must have heard your voice and gotten over-excited. That was quite the solid kick to the diaphragm!"

Brow knitting tight in utter confusion, Patsy heard her voice shake as she hesitantly asked "They?"

"I know," Delia giggled. "Still doesn't seem real does it?" She flinched again. "They've definitely woken up!" She grabbed one of Patsy's hands, sitting limply on her knee, and lifted the cardigan just a smidgen to place it against her belly. Her rather large belly. Strike that, enormous belly!

At the movement against her hand Patsy's heart leapt into her throat. What the hell was going on?! Her eyes felt like they were about to bug out of their sockets when a proper thump against her palm sent her sprawling to the floor in shock.

Delia laughed. "Your children know Mummy's home." She stood from the sofa, stretching out her back. She was huge! Truly ginormous! "Hard to believe they only started kicking yesterday. Not long to go now!"

Patsy remained on the floor gaping like a codfish. She could not take her wide eyes of that immense, swollen belly that even from here she could see fluttering with the movement of its occupants. Occupants? Multiple?

"Well if you're going to stay down there you might as well do something useful." Delia grabbed a stuffed pillowcase from beside the sofa and tossed it into Patsy's lap. "These are from Mrs Campbell, but Mrs Crighton downstairs said she'd drop some more over to us before the weekend. Goodness knows we're going to need them!"

Patsy cautiously opened the pillowcase, and found it full to the brim with cloth nappies. And there were more to come?How many did they need?!

"Are you okay Pats?" Delia frowned down at her, a laundry basket with yet more baby clothes resting against her hip, her free hand rubbing circles on her distended belly.

"Err...I'm fine?" She could only blink at her partner. "Perhaps a tad overwhelmed?"

"Oh cariad." Delia smiled at her indulgently. "I understand. It all happens so quickly doesn't it? You've barely any time to get used to the idea, let alone prepare, and then before you know it, they're here."

Shaking her head, trying to to stop it spinning, Patsy tried to fortify herself to ask a question that she was dreading hearing the answer to. "Remind me how we ended up in this predicament?"

A lascivious smile spread across Delia's face, catching her lip between her teeth. "You and your magic fingers two weeks ago." She sidled up to Patsy and stroked her fingers down her cheek. "Quite the birthday present you gave me eh love?" Her eyebrow flicked suggestively.

Two weeks?? Ok this couldn't be real. But Patsy was sure she was awake!

"Oh, Mam called, she says thank you so much for putting them on the phone, and she's ever so excited to see you."

All right well that all but confirmed that this wasn't real. Enid Busby as good as hated Patsy. Not only for upsetting Delia while she was in Hong Kong, but for then whisking her daughter off around the world only to settle in Scotland of all places. If she truly had knocked Delia up then she was certain Enid Busby would see she died a slow and painful death!

"Her and Tad will be here tomorrow evening, ready to help when our three little darlings make an appearance next week."

"Three?" Patsy could only manage a strangled squeak as she levered herself up onto the sofa. "Next week?! Isn't that a bit soon?"

"Come on Patsy, you're a midwife!" Delia dropped down heavily next to her. "You know better than anyone how this all works."

"I thought I did," she muttered under her breath, dropping her head into her hands. This had to be a dream, it just had to be. She pinched the bridge of her nose hard. Oww! So...not a dream? To summarise, she had apparently gotten Delia pregnant, with triplets, courtesy of her magic fingers, and they were nearing the end of a 3 week gestation period? And to top it off her apparent mother-in-law no longer hated her guts! It didn't make a lick of sense!

Delia's hand started carding through the fine hairs at the back of Patsy's neck. "What do you think of Pavel and Deron for the boys, and Tilda for our daughter?"

Patsy straightened up. "How do you know what you're having?!"

Delia rolled her eyes. "I've told you, mother's intuition! Although they're developing quite the drop-kick, I think we've got the makings of a rugby team in here!" She patted her belly, smiling that smile you only see on a mother. Patsy couldn't help thinking how devastatingly beautiful it looked on her. But then the smile faded and she glanced at Patsy. "Are you having second thoughts about all this? Do you regret that by some miracle this was possible?"

Patsy placed her hand over Delia's where it rested on her belly, sighing. "No Deels. I could never regret this."

"Then why are you acting like I'm telling you all this for the first time?"

Leaning forward the redhead rested her forehead against the brunette's. "I'm sorry darling." She kissed her gently. "I suppose I'm just a little stressed."

Delia kissed her back. "I can help you relax if you like?" That lascivious grin was back, and Patsy's breath caught at the sight of it. Delia kissed across her cheek, and then licked her ear. Only it wasn't a teasing, tip of the tongue lick. It was a very wet full on flat tongue lick. Patsy tried to pull away but Delia did it again, and again.

"Delia what are you doing?!" Patsy squeezed her eyes shut in disgust as the slobbering assault continued.

When her eyes snapped open again she was shrouded in darkness, but her ear was still being vigorously licked. "Garbo!"

She shoved the excited ball of fur away. "Bad dog! You know you're not allowed in here!"

"Garbo," came a croaky murmur from the mass of dark hair resting on Patsy's chest. "Down girl."

The dog sneezed and then leapt off the bed, the clacking of her claws growing quieter as she left the room.

"You left the door open." Delia stated, still not moving a muscle.

Patsy routed around for something to wipe her ear with, eventually locating her hastily discarded shirt. It needed a wash anyway, and the puddle in her ear was making her squeamish. "You were the one who dragged me through the door!"

"Didn't hear you complaining."

Patsy's dream suddenly flashed in front of her eyes. It had been a dream after all. Hadn't it? Delia was sprawled naked across her, and she was fairly sure she'd be able to feel from here if her belly was swollen. But just in case. Patsy stroked her hand gently down Delia's side, shifting just enough to slip her digits between them to graze across the brunette's deliciously soft belly. Nope. No sign of pregnancy.

Delia chuckled. "Pats," she warned. "As much as I adore your magic fingers..." She reached down and grasped Patsy's hand, pulling it up so she could place a kiss on her knuckles. "...I do not have the energy for another round tonight."

"Sorry my darling." She pressed her lips to the crown of Delia's head as the smaller woman tried to snuggle closer, humming contentedly.

Patsy gazed at the ceiling, absently drawing patterns across Delia's shoulder. Where on earth had that dream come from? She suspected on the most basic level she'd gotten a little broody this afternoon.

They'd invited a few of the neighbours over for tea to help celebrate Delia's birthday. Mr and Mrs Wallace had arrived with their small brood of, now she thought about 2 year-old twin boys, and a new born girl who Delia had helped deliver. Patsy had spent some time rough-housing with the boys on the floor, while Delia had spent nearly an hour happily sitting with the tiny girl in her arms. They made quite the pretty picture and Patsy found herself just watching her partner from the other side of the room. And just perhaps Patsy had fantasised a little about seeing Delia with a babe in arms more often. Their babe.

But the magic fingers? The three week gestation with triplets? Mrs Busby being excited to see her? That just all seemed so absurd. She had no idea what the significance of it all really was.

"Deels? Do you ever still think about having children?"

The rush of air across her chest as Delia sighed made her skin erupt in goosebumps. "What's the point? It's never going to happen."

Patsy ran her fingers through Delia's unkempt hair. "Does that mean you don't think about it?"

Delia rolled off Patsy, onto her side facing away from her. But she quickly grabbed Patsy's arm, pulling it tight around her waist. "Let's not talk about this now. Mr Campbell's whiskey is going to leave us both with a hangover tomorrow, I want to get some sleep."

Patsy wriggled up behind her love, pulling her in as tight as she could. Placing a kiss on her shoulder she sighed herself. Delia was right of course. Even if they could find a way to get pregnant there would be so many obstacles, so many questions. It wasn't really an option she admitted as her hand drifted down to rest protectively over Delia's abdomen. A moment later Delia's hand covered hers, interlacing their fingers, her thumb running over Patsy's knuckles. Just because they couldn't, it would never stop them from wanting it. And Patsy knew one thing for certain. Delia would look delectable pregnant.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't intending to continue this, but it kept me awake last night.
> 
> No research has gone into this, so if there's any glaring inaccuracies please do let me know and I'll correct them.

Patsy had confessed her dream to Delia the next day, and while the Welshwoman had laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all there had been a sadness in her eyes. A longing. They'd talked about it frankly. About each of their desires to have a family. Not how to go about having one, they weren't foolish enough to kid themselves that it was an option. They simply admitted to each other that it was something they wanted, the dream and the fantasy of it. They talked of Christmas morning with little ones around the tree getting lost under piles and piles of torn wrapping paper. Or of being woken early on a birthday when their son or daughter would bound into bed with them, excited to celebrate their special day. Even of sleepless nights walking the floor with a sick and fractious child who simply wouldn't settle unless they were in their loving arms.

They had laughed, they had smiled, there had been tears, Delia had even raised her voice at the utter injustice that two well-respected women weren't allowed to love a child because they loved each other. It was never a discussion that would bear fruit, but at least they were able to be open about it all with each other. That helped to sooth the sting of it a little, rather than letting it fester unacknowledged beneath the surface.

Now, three weeks later, Patsy sat by the phone in the office of the clinic where the district practice was based. It still didn't quite feel like home as it had at Nonnatus, but it was somewhere that she was needed, somewhere she could be useful.

The phone rang.

“Cadogan Road Clinic, midwife speaking.”

“Pats? Oh thank goodness, I was worried you’d be out on a call.”

Patsy’s stomach tightened with anxiety. “Delia? Is something wrong?”

“No, no no nothings wrong!”

The red head sighed with relief. “Deels you know you’re not supposed to call this number,” she chastised.

“Yes, I know, but this is rather urgent,” Delia pleaded. Patsy thought she could hear footsteps down the phone line. Was Delia pacing? “Can you please just hear me out?”

Patsy glanced around to make sure no-one else was in earshot. Thankfully the office was empty. “Go on then, but be quick about it.”

“I’ll try. There was a baby found abandoned outside the hospital this morning.”

Patsy frowned. “Oh Delia that’s awful. Was it all right?”

“He’s going to be fine, he just needs a bit of TLC. There’s no clue as to who his mother is, so the police are involved, and of course social services. They’ve been trying to find a foster home for him, but they’ve had no luck, there simply aren’t that many of them in the county.”

Pinching her nose, Patsy sighed. She had a sneaking suspicion where this was headed. “Well then he’s best off staying at the hospital, surely?”

“Yes he would be. Only the nursery is actually full. It’s been a very busy week over here. We’ve got twins top-and-tailing in one of the cribs right now so we could lay him down somewhere safe.”

“Deels…”

“Pats, I’ve offered to foster him for a few days, but only if you’re agreeable.”

“Delia, I don’t think…"

“Please Patsy. He’s got nowhere else to go.”

Patsy took a series of measured breaths.This could never be a good idea. It might have been three weeks since their conversation, but she knew it was still close to the surface. For both of them."Delia I can't stand to see you heartbroken when you have to hand him back."

"I'll deal with that when the time comes cariad," Delia whispered down the phone. "But in the meantime, this little boy needs us."

Patsy rubbed her hand over her face and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. She knew she was going to regret this. But she never could say no to Delia. "All right." She tried not to smile at the delighted squeak down the phone. "What do we need to do?"

"Ohhhh thank you cariad! " Delia squealed quietly. Patsy suspected she was bouncing on the spot. "I'll sort out the paperwork now. He was rather dehydrated so we're topping up his fluids, the doctor should release him after evening rounds. I finish at 4 though, so if I go home to get things ready would you mind picking him up when you finish work?"

"As you wish darling."

"Pats?" Delia's tone had a hint of warning to it. "If you don't want to do this I need you to tell me honestly now."

Patsy took a moment to consider her answer. But her reservations didn't matter when Delia was so excited. "No Deels, it's fine. I'll pick him up this evening." The excited giggle that reached her ear almost made her heart sing.

"I'll see you both at home then," the brunette declared. "Oh Pats, you're going to love him when you see him."

The click of the line dropping dropped a lead weight into Patsy's stomach. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Patsy breezed onto the ward later that evening. Almost literally. The wind had picked up dramatically and was sweeping through a few of the corridors of the slightly dilapidated hospital.

She tried to tidy her wind-liberated hair back under her hat, and shook a couple of rogue leaves out of her cloak. She was no stranger to the maternity ward, having been seconded there a handful of times already, and occasionally meeting Delia after work, but considering her reasons for being here she felt obligated to make a good impression.

"Alreet there Mammy?"

The Tyneside accent in the middle of Inverness would probably never not jar in Patsy's mind. "Good evening Peggy." She offered the small, jolly blonde a tight smile. She was a little...gregarious, and that made Patsy nervous.

" 'Ere to collect your Delia's foundling are ya? I tell ya what I've never seen ‘er so clucky!" The Northerner grinned.

Patsy clasped her hands in front if her, straightening her shoulders. "Apparently. It seems the young man has wooed my flatmate."

A deep chuckle emanated from the shorter woman. "Flatmate. You two do make me laff."

The redhead stiffened as Peggy flicked her eyebrow suggestively. "Has the child been cleared for discharge?"

"Aye pet, come with me."

Patsy followed the woman down a side corridor towards the nursery, remaining at least two steps away from her.

"Dr Gregory is happy with his progress today, just make sure to keep him hydrated. Delia took powder home with her already." Peggy pushed open the door and stood aside, nodding to the cot in the furthest corner.

Patsy hesitated before stepping towards the child, who thankfully was sound asleep. He was tiny. And evidently of mixed race. She turned back to the blonde. "How old is he?"

"Two days best as we can reckon." Peggy joined her beside the cot, stroking the boy's curly black hair. Patsy felt a flash of protectiveness pass through her. Where did that come from? "Cord was still tied with garden twine when he was brought in, poor little tyke."

Patsy continued to just gaze at the peaceful little thing. "Does he have a name?"

Peggy shook her head. “Nowt in the shoe box ‘cept him and a tatty old towel. We’ve just been calling him Wee Man all day.”

Patsy pursed her lips. Of course she understood the reasons that could lead to a mother abandoning a child, but she’d still never understand how a mother could actually leave a child in this manner. “And the chances of finding the mother?”

“Slim to none,” Peggy sighed. “She’d have to come forward, doubt police’ll find ‘er.”

“I see.” Patsy inhaled deeply. She needed to fortify herself, needed to put up a barrier between herself and the child. She could not get attached she kept telling herself as she carefully scooped him up and cradled him close. “Well young man. You and I have a bus to catch.”

A recent spate of wet weather had made the front door stiff, and Patsy had to give it a bit of a shove with her shoulder while being mindful of the precious, increasingly wriggly cargo sheltered beneath her cloak.

“Deels?” she called out as she stepped into the hallway, kicking off her shoes and attempting to remove her cloak one-handed. Unsuccessfully of course. She settled for slinging one side of it over her shoulder to allow the lad some more air until she could hand him off. "Delia? Are you home?"

She frowned at the lack of response and moved towards the sitting room, shifting the boy onto her shoulder as he started to grizzle. A wave of deja-vu rocked her when she pushed open the door. Delia was distinctly absent, but on the coffee table were several piles of baby clothes. Nowhere near the amount she'd seen in her dream but enough that she felt the need to pinch herself to ensure she was still awake.

The front door rattled open, followed by a commotion in the hallway, and a clattering of claws exiting the kitchen at speed. "Noooo, Garbo, down girl." The door slammed.

The baby chose that moment to emit an ear-piercing shriek, right next to Patsy's ear, making her flinch.

"Ohhh I'm sorry!" A familiar Welsh voice cried.

The commotion in the hallway resumed briefly, while Patsy began gently bouncing the baby, patting his back. "Now now little fellow," she murmured, the screeching turning to whimpers surprisingly quickly.

When she turned she found Delia stood in the doorway, just watching her, smiling, her eyes shiny. "Well aren't you two the prettiest picture," the brunette whispered.

She took a hesitant step into the room, as though reluctant to break the moment, but Patsy could tell she was itching for a cuddle. With the baby of course, not her. So the redhead was pleasantly surprised when Delia wrapped her arms around her waist, drawing both of them close. "Welcome home Wee Man," Delia murmured against the tight black curls on the child's head.

Patsy desperately tried to stave off the giddy joy trying to bubble up in her at the image before her. "Delia, please don't get attached to him darling."

Delia carefully pried him from her arms, gasping in that odd way adults do with babies when their briefly airborne. "Too late," she stated in a singsong voice as she cradled him. "Just you wait 'til you see all the lovely things I've got for you Wee Man!"

"Where did all this come from Deels?" Patsy glanced into the hall where Garbo was now curled up in a Moses basket. "Garbo, out of there. Go to your bed." Patsy pointed towards the kitchen. The dog sneezed and tucked her head down. "Garbo! Bed now."

"Garbo," Delia called from behind her. "Bed please." Immediately the dog was on its paws and trotting towards the kitchen. "Thank you."

Patsy turned to her partner, throwing her arms up in exasperation. Delia raised a pointed eyebrow, smirking. "It never hurts to be polite Patience."

"She's a dog! She has no concept of please and thank you!"

"She's more intelligent than you give her credit for cariad," Delia giggled, contentedly swaying.

Patsy sighed, plucking a tiny cardigan from the pile on the table. "You didn't buy all this did you?"

"No silly," Delia smirked. "Everyone's been so generous since they heard our news."

There was that deja-vu again. Patsy shook her head. " How many people have you told? And what have you told them?"

"That the stork paid us a surprise visit this morning." Delia shot her an exasperated look. "What do you think I told them? Honestly Pats the neighbours have been wonderful. I only asked if anyone had a few bits to tide us over, and they gave us all this!"

The baby gurgled, nuzzling at her breast. "Oh Wee Man, you'll find nothing for you there I'm afraid," she smiled, offering him her knuckle to suck on.

Patsy smiled, gazing at the pair of them. Then realised what she was doing and immediately wiped the small off her face. "I'll go mix him a bottle."

"You hear that Wee Man? Patsy's going to make you a bottle. Does that sound good?"

The redhead shook her head as she made her way to the kitchen. Garbo perked up as she entered, but upon realising it was only Patsy she yawned and settled back down again. Patsy just cast a glare at her.

"Pats, what do you think of Melvyn?" Delia asked from the sitting room.

"Melvyn?" Patsy finally escaped her cloak, draping it over a kitchen chair. "What do you mean what do I think of Melvyn?"

"I suppose it's a bit old fashioned. So is Clark really. What about Lionel?"

"Delia! You are not naming him!" Patsy protested, placing a pan of water on the hob to heat.

"Why shouldn't I name him?" Delia asked sternly, appearing in the doorway. "I can't keep calling him Wee Man!"

"Because that's how we got stuck with that..." She waved in the general direction of the dog in the corner. "Stubborn...disobedient little...oik!"

"So you're saying you would feel inconveniently burdened if for some reason he had to stay with us longer?" Delia's eyes sparked with anger as she held the baby just a little tighter.

"No Delia, I'm saying that by naming him you'll get too attached to him, and it's going to be so hard to give him up, either if his mother comes forward, or if social services find a proper foster placement for him." Patsy hastily grabbed a bottle from the dish rack, apparently Delia had been busy before she got back, and measured out the powder. She knew this was going to be a bad idea. Emotions were already running high and she hated it when conversations started spiralling out of control.

"So I'm not good enough to look after him then?" Delia's eyes were glistening again, but no longer out of joy.

"I did not say that!" Patsy spun to face the shaking brunette. She tentatively reached out a hand and placed it on the woman's cheek. "Deels. I do not doubt that you will do the very best for this young man while he is in your care. But you can't hope to be a mother to him. The odds are stacked too high against us."

She watched as Delia seemed to deflate, not just in dissipation of her anger, but as though the balloon that was her dream had been popped. She dropped her head against Patsy's shoulder and the taller woman wrapped her up in her arms, rocking gently from side to side.

"I know." Delia murmured against Patsy's chest. "I know I can't be his mother." She stood up straight to look Patsy in the eye, a single tear trickling down her face. "I just want to give him a name. Every child should be given a name by someone who cares about them. If it's left up to the social services he'll just end up another John, or Tom, and neither of those are his name."

 

Patsy sighed, kissing Delia's forehead. She dared to glance down at the child in her love's arms. His eyes were closed, his tiny mouth hanging open, small snuffling breaths reassuring her that he was only asleep. He looked perfectly content where he was, and who wouldn't be? She stroked his little clenched fist with her index finger. Reflexively the fist opened to wrap around the digit, holding it tight. Patsy's breath caught in her chest. She didn't want to want this, but when it was right here in front of her it was so very difficult to fight. "All right."

"Really?" Delia stared up at her wide-eyed.

The redhead nodded. "But not Lionel. I had a Sister Lionel at school." She shuddered.

Delia giggled. "Ok, not Lionel. Maybe Wallace? He is Scottish after all." She gazed at the boy in thought for a moment before gasping, turning excited eyes to Patsy. "What about Antonio?"

"Antonio?" The confusion only lasted a moment before Patsy spotted the pattern. "Delia, are you going through the list of Greta Garbo's leading men.”

The welshwoman looked down at the boy sheepishly, before raising her chin in defiance. "He deserves an interesting name."

Patsy shook her head, smiling indulgently at her love. "I'm not denying that, but if you will insist on naming him then surely you should be choosing something that speaks to you. What about a Welsh name? Like Pavel or Deron?"

Delia stared at her incredulously for a moment, then erupted in a fit of giggles so intense the baby startled awake, whimpering in her arms. "Oh cariad, you don't want me to call him Deron." She transferred the boy to her shoulder, stroking his back. "That was the name of the lad who was trying to court me before I moved to London remember? And Pavel was a bully at school."

Patsy snarled. Traitorous brain, she thought. Though of course the only Welsh names she really knew were ones that Delia had told her in tales of her younger days. Just why it had had to select Deron in her dream was beyond her.

She watched Delia as she swayed with the child, eventually lifting him up to the light and scrutinising him. He almost seemed to scrutinise her back. His skin wasn't dark, he just looked quite tanned really, it was the curly hair and slightly broader nose that gave away his mixed heritage. Patsy hesitated to admit that he was rather adorable, staring at Delia as he was.

"What about...Erik?" Delia asked, still intent on the boy.

"As in Erik Arthur Petschler? One of Garbo's directors?" Patsy countered with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh will you ignore the Garbo connection and just think about it?” They both looked back to the boy as he yawned.

Patsy felt her insides turn to mush.

“Yeah,” Delia cooed. “I think Erik suits him. What do you think Wee Man?”

He sneezed, looking startled.

Patsy laughed. “He’s learning from the dog already.”

The poor little boy started grunting, trying to nuzzle Delia’s thumb where it rested against his cheek. “You’d better get on with making that bottle Pats.” Delia placed him back on her shoulder, kissing his head. “Erik is definitely hungry.” She grinned.

 

 

 

The next few days weren’t exactly plain-sailing, though what else could they expect with a newborn. Put simply, Erik just didn’t want to be put down. During daylight hours this wasn’t a huge problem, Delia was very content to cuddle with him and even Patsy gave in on a few occasions. It was at night that they struggled, and Patsy developed a whole new appreciation for her patients dealing with sleep deprivation courtesy of their newborns.

The first night they only managed to put him down for about half an hour each time they got him off to sleep before he would start screaming. The boy might have been small but he had a mighty pair of lungs. Because Delia had taken two days leave and Patsy still had to work the next day, Delia spent most of the night in the sitting room with him. Patsy found her early the next morning passed out on the sofa, the tiny child curled up on her chest. The redhead thought her heart might burst then and there, her eyes blurred with happy tears. She tucked a blanket around Delia and took the boy in her arms to allow her love to sleep a while as she pottered around getting ready for work. She claimed a sleepy kiss from the brunette when she handed the baby back over on her way out the door. And when the redhead returned, tired and aching, she’d given in and curled up with them both on the sofa. It seemed the little fellow was worming his way into her heart already despite her admittedly merger efforts to keep him at a distance.

That night and the next day had been much the same. The third night however, Patsy took over sitting room duty. She had the next day off while Delia was back at work, and so she settled in on the sofa with a good book in hand and the boy snuffling gently on her chest. She was very much missing spooning with Delia as they slept at this point, but this was only a temporary situation, and with Erik’s future still uncertain she reasoned he needed all the love he could get. He’d not allowed her much rest, but she still woke with the dawn, as was her usual habit, and finding the lad seemingly deep asleep risked putting him down in the moses basket, and sneaking back to bed to spend some much needed time with her de facto wife. He’d allowed them nearly a whole 20 minutes.

Patsy accomplished more on her day off than she’d expected to. She’d discovered about mid-morning that so long as she kept talking to him, Erik was relatively content to lay in his moses basket for short periods of time, meaning she’d been able to give the flat a quick once over. By late afternoon, she had a clean home, clean laundry hanging up to dry, and a casserole ready to go in the oven. As she closed the oven door _Reet Petite_ began to play on the radio.

“Now then young man,” she said as she hovered over the basket. “This is music one has little choice but to dance to.”

She picked him up, spinning him in the air briefly before settling him against her shoulder and proceeded to prance around the kitchen singing along with the lyrics. She was grinning like a loon by the time she reached the second verse.

“ _Well, she really fills her clothes_

_From her head to toe_

_I want the world to know_

_I love her love her so_

_She’s alright, she’s alright_

_She’s alright_

_She loves me day and night!”_

A delighted giggle behind her stopped Patsy in her tracks. She turned to find Delia standing in the door, the biggest smile she thought she’d ever seen spread across her face.

“Oh please do not stop on my account.”

Patsy held her hand out to the brunette, which was duly taken, and spun her towards her. It was a little awkward dancing like this with the baby tucked securely in one arm, she longed to hold Delia properly and take her for a proper turn about the kitchen, but the welshwoman seemed so overjoyed in the moment that she just went with it, doing her best to lead her love, spinning her and keeping her close.

“ _Well now she’s my cutie, my tutti fruity_

_My heart, my love, my bathin’ beauty, she’s alright,_

_She’s got just what it takes, she’s got what it takes_

_And to me she really rates.”_

Delia pulled her down for a kiss and Patsy held her tight with her free arms, the baby seemingly content between the two of them.

“I don’t think I could have come home to anything better.”

“Just you wait until dinner time Busby,” Patsy smirked.

She watched as an unreadable look passed over Delia’s face. It wasn’t quite sadness. There was a hint of determination to it, but Patsy really didn’t know what it was.

“Pats, I want to come home to this every night.” She looked Patsy dead in the eye.

Patsy sighed. “Oh Deels, I wish I could give that to you. But you know we wouldn’t be allowed to adopt him.”

There was that look again. “I know _we_ can’t…but what if… _I_ could?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know yet if there will be a third chapter to this. Unfortunately, I like to keep things accurate in stories like this, and I'm struggling to find any decent information on adoption by single women in 1960s Scotland, so if anyone can point me in the direction of a reasonable source I would appreciate it. Otherwise I may just have to beat down my accuracy bug and write the ending I want to write.


End file.
